


perpetual summer and almost constant daylight

by ImperialMint



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aurors, Fluff, Light-Hearted, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9805367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint/pseuds/ImperialMint
Summary: in which MACUSA and the Ministry trade junior aurors annually, and this year there appears to be a familiar face amongst the British recruits.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> because we all know credence would make an amazing auror, and what better than just credence as an auror? credence as an auror saving graves. even if the danger threat is more mild peril than anything genuine.
> 
> there are many artworks out there too that are amazing and served as inspiration.
> 
> the second part will be posted soon, as it's already written. thank you to the amazing lunarshores for betaing, as always!
> 
> title comes from the description of the arctic tern's summer breeding grounds in the arctic. why? because i hate titles and love birds!

As the Director of Magical Security, Percival Graves was used to dealing with stressful situations. He was used to dealing with life-threatening situations too, and even painful, horrific situations. Those were things he could handle, though. Torture and captivity for weeks? No problem. Hunting dark wizards and dealing with them ruthlessly? No problem either. Defending his actions to MACUSA and sidestepping all opponents and red tape to maintain peace? Not a single problem there for Percival Graves.

Paperwork, on the other hand… Paperwork was enough to drive Percival Graves insane.

“You cannot be serious,” he said as his secretary hauled in another batch of papers behind himself. He shrugged apologetically, and Percival fought the urge to run his hands through his hair.

“I am sick of this paperwork,” Percival said, and his secretary flicked his wand, setting the stack on the left side of Percival’s desk. There was an odd sallowness to his face, and Percival had a feeling it was because there were yet more papers on their way.

“This is ridiculous,” Percival said, standing from his chair. “Get Tina in here now. This is her damned project, why am I the one—” Percival cut himself short, heading for the door instead.

For all intents and purposes, Tina did look hard at work at her desk. Except, Percival knew her better than that, had worked with her for the better part of a decade, and had promoted her to Deputy Head Auror earlier that year for a reason.

“Tina,” Percival said calmly, quietly. He saw the stiffening of Tina’s shoulders, and they both knew she’d just been waiting for him to call her into his office. “My office. Now.”

She was in the office in a flash, and settling herself in the chair in front of Percival’s. His secretary excused himself, closed the door behind him, and Percival took another deep breath, trying to think of a way to word what he wanted to say.

“I’m not doing anymore paperwork,” he said, focusing on the door handle rather than Tina. Percival was aware that his tone might be reminiscent of someone whining, but he was above such things, at least in front of his employees.

“Mr. Graves,” Tina began, shoulders sinking when she registered that he was shaking his head.

“No more Tina,” Percival pleaded, taking one of the papers and scanning it. “Why do these even need to be looked over? I thought you’d already looked through the profiles and selected suitable candidates. Why do I need to know—” and here Percival began to read from the sheet, “—what their favourite outdoor place is, and what their dreams for their future houses are?”

“Character profiles,” Tina muttered quietly. Percival looked at her, frowning.

“Sorry?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“They’re part of the character profiling. Since the applicants are all anonymous, we decided to send them a test. There’s evidence you can spot dark wizards from the places they choose when they do tests like this, and I was talking to Marshall and we—”

“I thought you’d already sent acceptance letters out? The transfer is tomorrow, and you’re telling me the acceptance letters are hanging on this bizarre character profiling shit?” Percival really hated paperwork. It was nothing but trouble.

“The letters went out last month,” Tina assured, and Percival felt his temper curling back in. “We’re just tying up loose ends.” She folded her hands on her lap, and was determinedly not meeting Percival’s eyes.

“So why do I have to go through these character profiles and sign off on them? Our aurors have already been accepted to train in the UK, and we’ve already accepted the batch from London.” Percival waited until Tina glanced up, and she deflated, eyes wide as she spoke.

“You haven’t read any of their applications or references or profiles or…” Tina took a deep breath, and Percival sat back, finally understanding. “I’m flattered, Mr. Graves, that you thought I could do all of this by myself this year, but I don’t think I can. What if… what if there’s someone who isn’t good, who isn’t suitable and—”

“Tina breathe,” Percival said, and he smiled. Now that he understood, and that he didn’t actually need to do this paperwork, he could allow himself to soften. “You helped me pick candidates for the transfer program since it began. That’s four years of helping me hand select candidates. Three, really. You pretty much ran the show last year without my help.”

Tina gave him an unsteady look, and Percival leaned forward.

“I trust you, Tina. I don’t need to look through or sign off on who you’ve accepted for the swap or who we’re getting. Most of them would die to have this opportunity, so what little room for error there is it’s taken care of by you. You know your stuff.” Percival smiled again, and Tina let her hands rest on the desk, looking down.

“It’s been quite a few years since we had someone infiltrate our ranks. I have confidence in you to be able to spot them, even without this ridiculous profiling.” Percival flicked his hand upwards, the stack of papers floating slowly towards the door. “You’re my deputy, Tina. It’s only because of that I won’t jinx you for almost making me sit through useless paperwork. I trust you and your judgement, so get back out there and make sure the international portkeys are for the correct destination and time, again. First impressions and all that.”

Tina offered a small smile, turning in her chair to look at Percival’s wall calendar.

“First impressions would be a lot more impressive if the Director was actually here,” Tina said, and Percival dignified her with a snort of laughter.

“I stay long enough to view them from a distance and then I report to the benefactor of this project. The mysterious edge to who I am works wonders for training exercises.” Percival nodded, ignoring Tina’s eye roll.

“You just hate dealing with new recruits, even temporary ones,” Tina pointed out, and she wasn’t wrong.

“Then it’s a good thing that I can delegate certain workloads to those appropriate, isn’t it?” Percival said, and Tina let out a laugh, standing.

“Of course. I’ll get back to work now, preparing for the British Invasion,” she said, her wand slipping into her hand. Percival felt the transfer of magic, and Tina was off, the stack of papers he had been controlling now in front of her.

For a moment, Percival looked out at his workforce, nodding contentedly at what he could see. They were a strong team, one Percival would be proud to lead into any fight, though he hoped he’d never need to lead them out to battle.

A small timer rang, and Percival silenced it with the twitch of a finger. He shrugged on his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck, nodding to his team as he strode past. They nodded in return, used to Percival’s routine now. It was time for his patrol, the time he’d check that each department was running smoothly and their threat level was either acceptable or in control.

Percival had let his guard down once before, six years ago. Never again, he’d promised himself, and there was no way he was going to break that promise.

.

At exactly 11:07am, Percival left the auror division and headed upstairs, a pair of binoculars in his hand, coat draped over the other. He nodded to other MACUSA workers, until he reached an old service platform, one that conveniently overlooked the entrance hall. The American aurors had already left for the British ministry, and Percival estimated he had around one minute before the British ones arrived for their exchange.

“Proudfoot has 20 dragots on three recruits leaving in the first week,” a voice said. Percival nodded to the man smoking on the platform, flicking ash over the banister and vanishing it away with a flick of his wand a second after. Beside him stood a woman, Proudfoot, and she grinned at Percival.

“I thought three was being generous. Magali said I should hike the price up for that, but Limus here isn’t having any of it.” Proudfoot grinned, grabbing Limus’s cigarette and taking a drag.

“Anything I bet would be an insult to Tina’s choosing skills,” Percival offered, taking up Limus’s other side. He tilted his head to the side, smirking. “I’ll put 50 dragots on there being 16 recruits left by the end of the program.”

Proudfoot slapped the banister, laughing loudly, and Limus sighed.

“You have the devil’s luck Graves. You always win these bets,” Limus said, but he waved his wand half-heartedly anyway, Proudfoot doing the same. Percival offered his own wand swish, uttering the betting charm that would seal their gamble.

“He has insider information,” Proudfoot said, leaning over the banister and craning her neck. “Which will make it sweeter when we’re the ones splitting 50 dragots.”

Limus snorted, and Percival held the binoculars to his eyes. This was a familiar routine for the three of them, started when they were green recruits fresh out of school. Percival had been straight from auror training, Proudfoot from Ilvermorny, and Limus law school. Their induction had been together, despite their differences, and they’d started that very year, watching the new recruits make their first faltering steps in MACUSA. They might only meet a handful of times in the year, inside of work, but it was a ritual they stuck to.

“They’re arriving,” Percival said, and both Limus and Proudfoot grabbed their own pair of binoculars. Limus vanished the remains of his cigarette with a quick spell, and then they were focusing on the bodies appearing in the entrance hall, a section cordoned off specifically.

These aurors were part of the trade agreement between the United Kingdom and the United States of America. It was a pet project of President Piquery’s following Grindelwald’s capture and subsequent escape, to bind relations between MACUSA and the British Ministry tighter. 20 young, British aurors traded with 20 young, American ones for 2 months annually. It was stressful, Percival couldn’t deny it, but it had been a lot easier this year with just Tina on it.

They arrived in groups of four, huddled around portkeys. Most looked smartly dressed, while a few had been a little ambitious and were wearing shorts. Proudfoot laughed at that one, particularly as one of them stumbled from the portkey, falling flat on their ass. Percival raised an eyebrow, making a silent bet that that one would either stick it out for the entirety or be gone in the first week.

They were, like the other groups they’d received, remarkably ordinary. Aside from the tendency to wear robes instead of no-maj formal wear, excepting the one shorts lover, the British were just like the Americans.

“Most of them look like they’re right out of Hogwarts,” Limus commented, and Percival nodded. They did look very young. If he hadn’t known that Tina selected candidates anonymously, with as little personal information as possible, he’d have wondered if she was making a statement or something.

“There’s a few older ones,” Proudfoot said, tapping her binoculars with her wand and humming to herself. “Not bad looking older ones either.”

“That’s inappropriate,” Percival commented, throwing a smile over Limus’ shoulders.

“You love being inappropriate when it’s just us,” Proudfoot shot back, lowering her binoculars. “Everyone else thinks you’re so straight laced and by the book, but we know the real Percy, don’t we?” Proudfoot said with a grin so wide it practically reached her ears.

“There are many reasons why I stopped drinking with you two,” Percival said, turning his attention back to the group below.

“And then you started back up again the day after President Piquery left office,” Limus said. “We should have given you more shit about preferring her drinking company to ours,” he added thoughtfully, and Percival nodded.

“Bad things happen on our drinking nights,” Percival admitted, drawing a hum from Proudfoot. There was a reason they didn’t drink too often together, and why they went out of state for it.

“Well,” Percival said after a moment’s silence. “They don’t look too horrible. Tina did a decent job, as expected of her. I’ll keep you updated on their progress, and let you know if it looks like one of us will win a bet.”

Proudfoot raised her binoculars in a toast, and Limus tucked his away in favor of lighting a cigarette. Percival took one last look, impressed at how finely some of the aurors were dressed – there was even one in a dashing hat – and decided it was time to leave.

After leaving office, Seraphina Piquery hadn’t strayed far. A few nasty backbenchers had snapped at her heels, and she’d left MACUSA with her head held high, but bridges firmly burned. Percival still wondered if he should have followed her, but there were some paths they both needed to tread on their own. This had been Seraphina’s.

Her house was a spacious apartment near the center of the city. It overlooked the park, lush and alive, and Percival didn’t bother to knock when he approached. Seraphina was expecting him, and she wouldn’t want to be disturbed for something as trivial as meeting Percival at the door.

“Tina did well on choosing recruits by herself then?” Seraphina said as Percival entered her office, making a beeline for the couch she kept there. He slid his shoes off and lay down, feet dangling over the arm.

“She did well if first impressions are anything to go by,” Percival commented. First impressions were a terrible way to see what made an auror, but no one had screamed unsuitable thus far. “Though she almost had me go through character profiles. There must have been a hundred sheets of paper.”

“Poor Percival,” Seraphina said, signing off on something with a flourish of a large, white quill. “Did you know Europe wants to place sanctions on imported wand wood?”

Seraphina was looking at him, and Percival shifted, sitting up. He set his coat and binoculars on the low table before him and threw one arm over the back of the sofa.

“I heard rumors from the Trade department, nothing concrete though. Is this your latest project?” Percival asked, and Seraphina shrugged, waving a trade agreement in Percival’s direction, along with a hefty stack of complaints from American wand producers.

“One of many. This is the one that has the potential to blow up in the United Force’s face. Wandmakers apparently don’t like sanctions of any sort.” Seraphina smiled.

She was happier as one of the United Force’s top negotiators than she had been in the final weeks of Presidency. She spoke for MACUSA and Wizarding America in the world-wide group, along with a small team, and Percival would trust no one else with the position right now.

“Were there any handsome gentlemen in this year’s batch?” Seraphina asked, switching subjects as quickly as she penned her signature. She quirked a grin as she set her quill down, attention on Percival.

“For me, for yourself, it doesn’t matter too much.” Percival set down the documents she’d sent over, rolling his eyes and raising an eyebrow.

“I thought you were seeing the negotiator for Peru?” he said, and Seraphina waved her hand dismissively.

“Peru then someone from France, yes. The French one was a chef, and they have yet to call me back. I’m keeping my options open,” Seraphina replied, elbows on the desk and her chin resting on her knuckles. “Should I set my sights closer to home?”

“Most were very young, hardly of age,” Percival began, offering a look of commiseration. The arrival of British aurors always was an exciting one. Foreign, new, and only there for a temporary amount of time — they were perfect for a short, no-strings-attached romance.

“Perhaps one or two who would be suitable for people of our age,” Percival said, and Seraphina smiled, elbows sliding from the desk.

“If they need an exercise in going through worldwide negotiations, please feel free to send the one or two over here.” Seraphina paused. “Do you sometimes worry you’re turning into a creepy sexual predator?”

Percival laughed, reaching for the trade document.

“I worry you’re having too much fun, and I’ll be considered the prudish one in our friendship,” Percival replied. He was glad Seraphina was enjoying herself. He just wished he could share in on her scandalous relations. His days of those relationships were long gone.

“You always were the prudish one,” Seraphina shot back. “Even with the stories of what you get up to with Limus and Proudfoot.”

Percival hummed in agreement. A few people might know what Percival got up to, but even fewer knew about Seraphina.

“You know where you can get them on this trade sanction bullshit, don’t you?” Percival began, slipping into business mode once more. Seraphina turned to him, and they began picking the document apart.

Just like old times.

.

Despite delegating charge of the auror swap this year, Percival knew the schedule as well as his own. He knew when the group would be in MACUSA and when they would be out in the field or on various training exercises. Percival knew because he hated running into them. He preferred an elusive approach when it came to mingling with the British, largely because there was always one who, in their own words, took a fancy to him, and it had led to some awkward propositions Percival really didn’t like to think about.

“Good morning.” Percival greeted his team in the meeting room, his senior aurors already seated around the large table. “I trust you all got a good look at the new aurors yesterday, but please can we put that out of our minds until after the briefing?”

There were a few murmured complaints, but everyone settled down, dragging over case files and sipping coffee as they began briefing Percival on case updates. Remarkably, they managed to make it a whole half hour before they were interrupted by one of the junior aurors from Selby’s team gingerly shuffling down the corridor.

“May I borrow Deputy Head Auror Goldstein?” they asked, and Percival turned to Tina slowly. Their first British auror casualty then, he thought, and Tina stood hurriedly, lips pressed together.

“Excuse me,” she said, shooting Percival a warning look as he hid his smirk behind his hand. If Tina was being dragged in, someone was about to be taking an early portkey home.

“Back to business,” Percival said, and all eyes were on him again. “Have we got any more information on the Jackalopes? Are they just a bunch of idiots or should we be congratulating them on choosing an idiotic name just to get our guards down?”

The room fell silent, and Percival resisted the urge to sigh. Three months ago, a group calling themselves the Jackalopes had appeared, supposedly torturing no-majs and wizards indiscriminately, picking their way through America. No one knew their purpose, no one had confirmed any of the victims, and Percival had no idea what they were up to, or who had chosen a stupid name like the Jackalopes.

“We don’t know, sir,” Smith said quietly, and Percival sighed, not bothering to hide it.

“Get a team on it then, and if there’s already a team get another. It’s been suggested we use the British aurors to deal with them as a training exercise. I’m not sending out foreign guests if it turns out we’ve pulled the wool over our eyes and they’re actually a team of highly dark and skilled wizards for whom the rumors barely cover it.” Percival’s voice was firm, and the team all snapped to attention.

“They’re probably a band of pranksters,” Percival relented after a moment, well aware he had a trigger reaction to any mysterious team of potential dark wizards. It was the main reason he was still Director, despite Grindelwald and despite being one of the oldest aurors who still frequented the field on (at least) a monthly basis and could hold a department together.

“I’ll get my team on it,” Smith said, jotting something down on a notepad, and Percival inclined his head, grateful that his team took his concerns seriously.

Their meeting concluded, and Percival pondered what to do next. The new aurors weren’t scheduled to be let out from the training rooms for another handful of hours, so Percival could squirrel himself away in his office and completely avoid them. He’d have to make sure he had enough work, of course, and his brow wrinkled at the thought of paperwork. Perhaps there was a field case he could take up.

Regardless, his office was the next destination, and Percival could see a figure inside before he reached the door. So much for peace and quiet then. If Tina, for there was no one else who could pace like Tina could, was in his office, something had really screwed up with the new aurors.

“My wonderful Deputy Head Auror,” Percival greeted as he entered his office, waving the door closed. “You’re not filling out the paperwork for a transferring portkey and you are, instead, gracing my office with your wonderful presence.”

Tina looked at him, unimpressed.

“Why?” Percival asked, and she unclenched her hands from where they’d knotted themselves in an odd ball against her stomach.

“We already cleared that one up — turns out someone brought these stinkbombs, but Samuels is a genius with air filtration charms and…” Tina shook her head. “No, nevermind. It’s all handled. No one is going home. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Two problems in one day? That was a first for the second day in. Percival sat down in his chair and leant back, nodding for Tina to continue.

“I want you to meet one of the aurors,” Tina said, and Percival fixed her a look of disbelief. She knew he had a policy of waiting at least a week, and even then he refused to meet them one-on-one. He was the Director.

“No,” Percival said straight away, and Tina bit her lip.

“Okay, but—” she began, but Percival held a hand up. There was no way he was going to go along with this.

“No means no,” he replied. “You know my policy.”

“This is different, sir,” Tina said, and Percival knew from the honorific that she wasn’t happy.

“I can’t play favorites, and neither should you,” Percival offered, and Tina let out a slow breath.

“He’s not my favorite. Well, he is, technically, but that’s because I know him, you know him, and that’s why you have to come and meet him. You can come for lunch — I’m meeting up with Queenie, and we’re going to take him to Jacob’s bakery,” Tina rushed out. Her cheeks were a little flushed, and Percival could see this meant a lot to her. Still, he wouldn’t break habits for anything.

“I don’t care,” Percival said, ignoring the dark look on Tina’s face. He wondered, if they were outside of MACUSA, whether she would have hexed him or not. She’d done it before on a case, after Percival had burst into laughter when she’d fallen into a bog. The look on her face then was identical to the one she was wearing now.

“It’s Credence,” Tina said, and the world paused for a moment. Percival blinked.

“Credence. Credence as in obscurial Credence who last wrote to you from Paris?” Percival asked, ignoring the hammering of his heart in his chest.

“Credence as in Credence who last wrote to me from London a few months ago letting me know he’d been promoted from trainee auror to junior auror, who hasn’t been in Paris for at least three years now.” Tina’s mouth did the thing where it turned down. Percival had named it her Very Unhappy face. “Credence who always asks after your health even though you don’t deserve it.”

Percival ignored the last sentence. Had it really been three years? He remembered the Paris letters, largely because he’d been a recipient of a handful. Credence had written to him first out of desperation for answers, on a scrap of paper that Percival had pondered over for days when he’d been shut in the hospital. Since then, though, they had written, and Percival had explained, and Credence had expanded his world. He’d told Percival of the spells he’d learned, of the people he’d met, of the places he saw.

Their correspondence had dwindled when Credence had, as a footnote at the end of a page, said he was not going to reply anymore, no matter what Percival sent through. Percival hadn’t understood it then, and he didn’t understand it to this day. He hadn’t tried to write since then, though. Credence had asked him not to, and Percival had always said he would respect Credence’s choices through and through.

That didn’t mean it hadn’t been a shock. There had been an out-of-state drinking session that weekend, if he recalled correctly.

It hurt, just a little, to know that it had only been him Credence had cut contact off with. Now, from what Tina said, Percival guessed Credence had entered auror training when he’d cut contact. Perhaps he’d worried that Percival’s influence could have opened or closed doors he wouldn’t have off his own back. Perhaps it was just a good time to finally stop talking to Percival.

“Well,” Percival said, trying not to let his feelings show, “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful catch up over lunch. Don’t make him late for his afternoon class.”

Tina scowled, and Percival raised an eyebrow, tilting his chin in a way he knew she hated. It did the trick. Tina sighed, shoulders slumping, and then she was off.

“You’re ridiculous, you know,” she commented in the doorway. “I’m sure he would love to see you. You haven’t seen each other in years, since before the… well.” Tina stopped herself before she could reference Percival’s encounter with Grindelwald, and he rolled his eyes.

“I have work to do,” Percival reminded her softly, waiting until Tina had stepped out to wave the door closed. It closed slowly, creaking before it clicked shut, and Percival sat heavily in his chair, closing his eyes.

He had no idea what he’d do if he saw Credence. Percival had no idea how to treat him: as an old friend, as someone he wronged, as a colleague? There were too many options, and Credence fit none of them.

Percival opened his eyes and summoned the closest case file. There were seven or so he needed to check through before they could be processed, and that should be sufficient enough to take his mind off of the Credence issue. When in doubt, avoid the problem, Percival had learned long ago. It was a tried and tested method, along with drinking problems away.

Which reminded Percival… he scrawled a quick note and sent mouse-letters scurrying off towards the offices of Limus and Proudfoot respectively. They were long overdue a drinking session.

.

The thing about Tina Goldstein was that she was like a dog with a bone when she wanted to be. There wasn’t a three hour period, other than when Percival was asleep, when Tina wasn’t harassing him with letters, people with messages, or herself about seeing Credence.

“He’d like to see you,” Tina said.

“Credence was asking after you again,” Tina said.

“You should at least say hello. You’re being rude now,” Tina said.

“You’re a miserable bastard,” Tina had written in a note, one slid through his door as a mouse last night, that was now in Percival’s hand. He sighed, crumpled the paper into a ball, ignoring the slightly shoddy handwriting and the stain on the corner of the paper that smelt like red wine, and threw it in the air. A quick incendio took care of the rest, and Percival could return to reviewing the information Smith had sent him in regards to the Jackalopes.

It still wasn’t much. It didn’t really give them any information except for naming one witness, who Smith had questioned. His team had left as puzzled as they had before, unsure whether the witness was an informant for the Jackalopes or an honest victim. This was beginning to feel like a huge set up, and Percival didn’t feel ready for whatever was about to happen.

Glancing at the clock, Percival grabbed his briefcase and apparated, landing in one of the popular apparating alleyways outside MACUSA. He had meetings practically all day, meetings he wasn’t particularly looking forward to, and Percival would blame his mind being elsewhere with that rather than remembering the British aurors would be loitering in the entrance hall that morning.

As soon as Percival stepped inside of the building, he knew he’d made a mistake. He could feel the ripple of acknowledgement that he was there like an electric current. Percival hated it every time, all young aurors did it, and he tried not to do so much as glance in the way of the whispering group.

Percival didn’t have to resist glancing for long. His secretary was hovering by the staircase, and he came jogging over to Percival as soon as he spotted him.

“Good morning Director,” he greeted, and there was a flurry of whispering and shuffling from the British auror group. Percival shook his head slightly.

“Good morning, we’re walking,” Percival said quickly, and his secretary launched into the schedule of his day, how eager the President was to hear details of his recent caseload, and how lunch had been shaved down to a meager 20 minutes. Percival couldn’t help a quick glance back, fire burning through his veins as he scanned the 30 or so faces.

Disappointment flooded through him when he didn’t see Credence. It was ridiculous. Percival was a middle-aged man, they had barely known each other when things came down to it, and they were nothing anymore. A handful of almosts and maybes, perhaps, but nothing. Credence shouldn’t make Percival feel like an unsettled teenager with a crush, but here he was.

Percival liked to think it was simply because he had no idea how to treat Credence after the whole Grindelwald thing. He’d almost gotten Credence killed, if one escalated the issue upwards. They’d never really addressed it either, and Percival had no idea how Credence felt about that. Or anything, really.

They reached the auror offices in record time, his secretary still giving him the schedule for the day. Percival commented blandly on a few things, but for the most part he just listened, staring blankly ahead. He was going to be here past office hours too, he just knew it.

“Director Graves,” a familiar voice said, and Percival paused, his secretary hovering.

“Coffee, black, and I’ll be in to organise notes in a moment,” Percival said to him, and his secretary was off, straight towards Percival’s office.

“Surveyor Proudfoot,” Percival greeted neutrally, and Proudfoot offered a slight smile, handing over a few sheets of paper.

“One of the teams has felt a wobble,” Proudfoot explained. “Nothing to worry about — we’re still trying to locate the cause so it could just be an anomaly, but we’d like to upgrade the threat level.”

There was no such thing as an anomaly or a wobble in the threat level. There was no humor in Proudfoot’s eyes either, and when she was all business, something was looming on the horizon.

“Great,” Percival muttered, reading the papers Proudfoot had produced. They didn’t need his permission to upgrade the threat, but Percival was one of the handful of people who had to be informed immediately if action was being taken.

“We’re not expecting to upgrade more than one level,” Proudfoot said, and that was something at least. Percival nodded, summoned a quill and ink from the closest desk, and signed the last page simply and handed the papers back.

“I’m in meetings all day, but Tina should be around if you need anything. If it’s urgent, send a note, and I’ll receive it. I get a generous 20 minutes break if you’re free?” Percival’s voice dipped at the last bit, and Proudfoot’s smile finally reached her eyes.

“I could do with scrounging some cigarettes off of Limus. I’ll write him a note and see you on break then.” She turned to leave, then stepped in closer. “Tina’s got one of the British aurors with her right now. If she’s hoping for a scandalous romance, she’s barking up the wrong tree. He’s only got eyes for you, Percy.”

Percival felt hot and then cold, frozen as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water on him. He only barely kept from looking round, knowing full well who the auror with Tina was. It had to be Credence, could only be Credence, and Percival had no idea how he was going to walk to his office without turning around and fixating on the fact that Credence was really here.

“Sure,” he offered to Proudfoot, and she gave him a knowing look. His 20 minute lunch break was going to be full of jibes no doubt, and Percival began steeling himself for his day.

He managed to make it to his office before he looked. He could see Tina, staring at his door like a hawk, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed as she spoke. She made no move to draw Credence’s attention to Percival when she looked at him, though he did see her smirk in satisfaction as his gaze slipped from her to Credence.

He looked good, was Percival’s first thought. He’d lost the sallow, thin frame, grown his hair out, and looked happier. Percival wouldn’t worry about this Credence falling over just from a strong gust of wind; no, this was a seasoned auror who held himself with confidence, and Percival felt a strong urge to keep him at MACUSA and refuse his transfer back to the British Ministry.

Percival turned away before Credence could look up from whatever he was reading to Tina, slinking into the depths of his office and reaching for the coffee on his desk. He’d have to go back out there in moments, but Percival would wait until he was fetched rather than venture out on his own. Until then, he could use his time wisely.

For such things as dwelling on how well Credence’s shoulder-length hair suited him, and how he looked ever so smart in his navy blue suit. Thank god he hadn’t adopted the British tradition of robes, it would be a waste for an American auror to tread that dark path. He looked good, had the air of a man who had emerged victorious from fighting for what he wanted, and he looked as if he had gotten what he deserved from life.

Percival was glad, even if that meant he hadn’t been a part of Credence’s battle. Or rather, even if it meant he hadn’t contributed anything positive to the fight.

“Sir,” his secretary said, poking his head around the door, “We need to leave now to make it to the antechamber in time.”

Percival breathed in deeply, downed the rest of his coffee, and turned his wand on himself. He secretary said nothing as Percival spruced his clothing and hair up – it was good to look professional, he reasoned, and the few charms had nothing to do with wanting to look good as he walked through the office, an office Credence sat in.

“Seraphina’s going to be there isn’t she,” Percival suddenly realised, glancing at the itinerary his secretary passed over as they left the room.

“Do you want me to sneak something stronger into your coffee?” his secretary asked in a hushed voice, and Percival broke into a smile.

“If she’s wearing the ornate headscarf I got her for her birthday we’re alright. If it’s the ornate one MACUSA got her as a leaving present, we’re all fucked, and that 20 minute lunch might as well be struck off. You know what she’s like when she refuses to back down,” Percival said, feeling a headache coming on already.

They passed by the first of the auror desks, and there was nothing for it. To get to the elevator to go down to the antechamber, they needed to pass Tina. Passing Tina meant acknowledging her, and acknowledging Credence. Percival was the Director of this entire department. This really shouldn’t be so hard.

“Good morning, Director Graves,” Tina chirped merrily, smile wide as Percival stepped closer. “And good morning, Andrews.”

His secretary nodded his head, glancing at Percival to determine whether he needed to rush them to the elevator to make the meeting on time or not. Percival was pointedly not paying attention to the way Credence’s head snapped up, nor did he think the expression of surprise on his face was adorable, because there was no reason for Percival to think that way. At all.

“Good morning, Deputy Head Auror Goldstein,” Percival said, forcing a smile as she narrowed her eyes, tilting forward ever so slightly, clearly waiting to see his reaction to Credence. “And good morning, Auror Barebone,” he continued, schooling his face into a painfully neutral expression as he met Credence’s eyes. “It’s good to see an auror of your caliber on the program. I’m expecting great things.”

It was as close to gushing praise as Percival would allow himself to get, and he’d struggled to keep his voice monotone. Something must have crept through, for Tina was beaming as if he’d given her control of the entire department and announced he was heading for a vacation in Hawaii.

Credence was positively glowing, eyes wide and smile even wider. He nodded enthusiastically, and Percival felt like a massive bastard for repeatedly turning down Tina’s insistence they meet. What on earth did Credence think of him now?

“Well,” Percival said awkwardly, unable to stop staring at Credence, “I must go now.”

In the elevator, after the doors had closed and ended the most awkward desk-to-elevator walk Percival had ever done in his life, he pressed his lips together and resisted the urge to bang his head against the elevator wall.

“It wasn’t as bad as the time one from the first batch of Brits wrote you that love letter and tried to spike your coffee with love potion,” his secretary offered, and Percival winced. Nothing could possibly be as bad as that, and the fact that that was the comparison showed how terribly awkward Percival had been.

“Thank you, Andrews,” he sighed, and his secretary patted his shoulder in commiseration.

“I’ll see about sneaking something into your drink after lunch. I think you’d have deserved it tenfold by then.” Percival nodded miserably as they elevator lurched to the side. There was a reason he’d kept Andrews at his side for years, and he proved again and again that Percival had at least made the right choice there.

If only he could have that confidence in the rest of his life choices.

.

“If you think the young man has it bad,” Seraphina said, back to the banister as Proudfoot leans closer to her, “you need to hear what Andrews told me.”

Percival, sitting cross-legged on the floor and halfway through devouring a sandwich, checked the time and ignored the conversation above him.

“I believe Andrews used the terms ‘longing eye contact’ and ‘deep, romantic sighs’,” Seraphina continued, and both Proudfoot and Limus broke into laughter.

“Oh Percy,” Proudfoot said, leaning down slightly. “You’re smitten.”

There was nothing Percival could do to deny it except shuffle around slightly, turning his back further on his friends.

“They’re starting their fieldwork this week, aren’t they?” Limus said, and Percival took another bite of his sandwich, still refusing to participate.

“Isn’t that the week where every auror gets one or two of the Brits to teach? And considering Tina is involved…” Proudfoot trailed off, and Percival shuffled even more until he was facing the wall of the banister.

Only the most senior aurors were paired with the British recruits, so as to ensure they got the best from the swap and were protected if things should go south. There would be nothing worse than half the foreign force dying on American soil. Percival had always been glad to take a few of them out, and he’d always chosen three at least at any given time, but now he had a feeling Tina had rigged it to her liking, and his only partner would be Credence.

“Why are we still talking about this and not the orgy Seraphina is trying to organise?” Percival said, and Proudfoot laughed.

“Because I need to check the rota and make sure I’m not on night shift next weekend so I can go?” she retorted, and Seraphina hummed sagely.

“And because you’re absolutely ridiculous, and this is more fun than talking about an orgy. Seraphina would probably love it if we shouted about it, the more the merrier and all that,” Limus chimed in, just as Percival finished his sandwich.

“It would be a good way to get the numbers up,” Seraphina said, deadpan. Percival rolled his eyes and stood up, taking the space between Limus and Seraphina.

“Andrews could use a good time, I’ll mention it to him if you want,” Percival said, half-hoping Seraphina would hear his plea to change the subject. She did, judging by the smile on her face, and promptly ignored it.

“Perhaps I should extend the offer to Credence,” she said, and even though Percival knew she was only saying it to rile him up, he gritted his jaw all the same, staring down at the entrance hall.

“Have some pity on the poor man,” Limus said, and Percival wanted to hug him. “It’s not like Percy’s familiar with the dating game, remember that Mexican wizard who was brought in a couple of years ago to help with one of the cases?”

Percival wanted to push Limus over the balcony.

“I remember!” Proudfoot said with glee, and Seraphina nodded. “He was gorgeous though. Took you about a week to muster up the courage to say something other than ‘good work’, didn’t it?”

“In the end Percy was the one getting all the sneaky office blowjobs,” Seraphina murmured and Percival had an urge to point out that things hadn’t been restricted to in the office or to just blowjobs. He knew better though, and kept his mouth shut.

“My point,” Seraphina said, meeting Percival’s eyes, “is that you’re wasting time over thinking. Before you know it, you’ll be 50 and regretting not making a move sooner. And don’t give me the bullshit about Credence not liking you — Proudfoot opened this conversation by waxing lyrical for at least three minutes on how he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”

“I love my supportive friends,” Percival said, rolling his eyes. He checked the time and sighed, pushing away from the banister. “And now I have to go and sit through more meetings. I’m glad my love life miseries provide you all with entertainment, and I hope next week we can all go back to discussing Limus’ bad fashion choices instead.”

As he left, Percival was sure he heard Limus asking what was wrong with his orange polka dot shoes, and he smiled. Maybe they were right about him needing to just get over himself, perhaps this did run deeper than a superficial attraction, or maybe they were all wrong and Percival was really just hung up over the fact he’d never been able to apologize in person.

Whatever it was, it would have to wait. He had more meetings to suffer through first.


	2. Chapter 2

Field work week was often the first time Percival allowed himself to examine the British aurors . It began on Monday morning, with the entire British force plus the senior aurors who would be mentoring them in one of the larger lecture halls. It had been cleared of chairs, and here Tina would announce their assignments.

Personally, Percival thought this to be a little useless. Tina had been dropping hints for days who his partner would be, though he hardly needed hints to guess she’d pair him with Credence, and there were a million other things he could have been doing than standing at the edge of the senior auror crowd waiting for Tina to announce his assignment.

“… at MACUSA we involve every level of staff, which is why some of you will have already spotted Director Graves.” Percival looked up at Tina’s words, nodding his head at the wide eyes of the British aurors. “We’re lucky that our Director still involves himself with field work, and as one of MACUSA’s longest standing aurors, he is a font of knowledge for us all.”

Percival raised an eyebrow as Tina smiled at him, wondering why she was being so nice.

“Every auror at MACUSA has been taught directly by Director Graves. He doesn’t settle for second best, and that extends over the entire department. On your field work assignments, you’ll be expected to push above and beyond your limits.” Tina turned her smile on the young aurors, and pulled out her list, reeling off names.

“Auror Barebone,” she said, and Percival tuned back in, eyes scanning the crowd for Credence. He was straight-backed and eager, tan coat folded neatly on his lap and blue suit perfectly pressed. He was a vision of what a perfect junior auror should be, and Percival swallowed thickly, wishing he’d worn his nicest tie pins and the black suit instead of what he had on now. Which was a decent black suit and his second-nicest tie pins. Good, but he could do better.

“You’ll be partnered with Director Graves. You’re assigned to Case Room C,” Tina said, and Credence shot up, eyes wide and head bobbing. Percival was already walking from the room by the time Credence collected his folder and was ready to leave, heading towards one of the case rooms.

All case rooms sat down a dark corridor. They were secure against the worst of spells, quiet and, for the most part, designed for a small team of five or so. Every room had a notice board and communication lines to various departments. Percival had, on one notable case when he was a senior auror, spent 12 days inside Case Room A while trying to solve one case, trading shifts sleeping in the corner with the rest of his team. They’d cracked it on the 13th day, and that had been one of the greatest moments of Percival’s career, if only because he really had earned sleeping in his own bed that night.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the corridor, and Percival opened the door to their assigned room. Credence was just a step behind, and he moved to the table inside as soon as he passed Percival, clearly deciding to take a business approach to this entire thing. That worked for Percival.

“I’m not sure what Tina’s told you about this exercise,” Percival began, closing the door and shrugging his jacket off. He set it on the back of the chair opposite the one Credence had taken, sitting down and settling back. “Everyone approaches this differently. I’m here to offer guidance, but I personally would prefer you to only use me when you need to.”

Credence nodded slowly, eyes slipping down to the open file. Percival recognised it as a case he’d been involved with in his junior days. It was a complex one on illegal potion trading and an illegal ring of dragon breeders, who weren’t actually breeding on American soil and that had brought about another level of legislation they had to fuddle through, and would be an interesting enough one to revisit. Credence would be provided with more evidence than they’d had at the start (it had taken weeks to solve, and the British aurors only had five days), but it should still be a sufficient enough challenge.

Percival tried not to think too much as Credence began to set evidence up on the notice board, murmuring quietly to himself. He tried not to let himself fascinate over the way Credence carefully pinned each photo and scrap of paper up, at the way he pressed his knuckles to his lips, and the way he gently swept the loose curls of his hair away from his cheeks. He barely acted as if Percival was there, too transfixed in his work, and Percival felt something shift in his chest.

Of course, being the Director meant that Percival had more work to do than oversee Credence’s case. Around 20 minutes into Credence sorting through the case file, Andrews appeared at the window to the room, and Percival waved him in.

“Today’s work, sir,” he said, floating in a stack of papers, followed mercifully by a tray of coffee and cookies. “Today’s mail is also included, as well as a surveillance update Surveyor Proudfoot handed to me a moment ago.”

Percival nodded his thanks and set everything down on the table. He noted the extra cup for Credence, and glanced back at Andrews, who was definitely not meeting his eyes.

“Good weekend, Andrews?” he commented, smirking at the flush that crept its way up Andrews’s neck, dotting his cheeks.

“Y-ye,s sir,” he replied simple, and Percival nodded.

“Alright then. I’ll send a note if we head out.Otherwise we’ll be here.” Andrews retreated, clearly glad Percival wasn’t pressing for more details of his sordid weekend at one of Seraphina’s ‘parties’.

“He seemed awfully flustered,” Credence said, and Percival looked at him in surprise. Credence looked away hurriedly, pressing his lips together, as if he was regretting speaking, and Percival thought that perhaps his friends were onto something when they said he should get over himself.

Percival could be a friend to Credence, at the very least, he decided. He could talk to Credence like a normal person and treat him with the respect he deserved, as a friend. He could apologize, and they could get on with their lives, if Credence wanted.

“I set him up with some…” Percival struggled to find a candid way to put it, and failed. “I suggested that he attend a more adult-natured gathering this weekend that a friend of mine was hosting.”

Credence frowned in confusion, before his expression cleared.

“Oh,” he said, eyes glancing around the room for a moment, unsure where to settle. He flushed slightly, and Percival set himself to pouring coffee out for them both.

“It’s not something I’m interested in myself, but I’m not here to judge.” Percival slid a mug to Credence’s side of the table. “I’ve left it black.”

“Thank you,” Credence said, turning to face the notice board. He had everything he needed pinned up, and he leaned back against the desk as he surveyed the information, silent.

Percival turned to his own work, reading through Proudfoot’s note first, a small memo that informed him they still hadn’t found cause for the possible threat yet. Percival sipped his coffee with a frown, turning to the files he had requested on the Jackalopes, certain they, somehow, were related to the threat wobble.

“Well, they’re clearly not breeding the dragons on American soil,” Credence said suddenly, and Graves looked up sharply. They hadn’t been able to solve that until they’d arrested the potion makers, and yet that was the first thing Credence deduced?

“Their potions are all dragon ingredient based, but the species they’d need for each of these are… well, there’s probably something from one of every species here. And not just small things, they have egg membranes, bones, charcoal from specific fires… a lot of work went into breeding these dragons, and there’s no way they would have been able to hide it in America.” Credence turned back to the table, flicking through some of the notes he hadn’t put up.

“My guess would be they’re smuggling in from Canada, as that would be the easiest border to cross, but perhaps Europe would be more appropriate.” Credence tapped his fingers against the desk. “Or multiple places. Multiple dragons from their countries of origin, smuggled in with other ingredients that are all legal.”

Credence abandoned the desk, pacing before the noticeboard, and Percival was transfixed.

“They set themselves up as a legitimate, long-standing business, perhaps taking over from someone well respected. They make a name for themselves in the community, proudly state their ingredients hail from all around the world — which they do. Except, along with the standard delivery, they’re also getting in dragon parts from their farms to sell black market potions.” Credence paused, tapping his knuckles against his lips. His hand dropped, and he blinked, as if he’d disappeared somewhere else and only just come back to himself. He glanced at Percival and balked slightly, shrinking in on himself.

“Or something like that I think,” he offered, some of the confidence from before disappearing.

“And how would you go about stopping them?” Percival asked, and Credence drifted off into thought.

“They have a vast network, if this is over many countries, and US laws most likely don’t apply. This isn’t a case where you can get everyone, and you have to choose who you take down. In this case, you can only shut down the potion makers and sellers, not the people breeding the dragons.” Credence seemed a little saddened by that, and Percival nodded.

“We tracked them down and busted the apothecary. You’re right — it was one of the most respected apothecaries in the city at the time, though none of the original workers were there anymore. We took them all down quickly after one of our aurors went undercover trying to buy prohibited potions.” Percival took another sip of his coffee. “But it wasn’t until they were in our custody that we realised they were also part of the dragon breeding ring, not just buying illegal stuff in.”

Credence returned to the table and sank into his chair slowly, gaze curious.

“We didn’t see the bigger picture back then, but you saw it instantly.” Percival glanced to the files beside him, and felt the itch for something bigger run through him. Credence could do this, he thought. It would be more interesting than whatever Tina had planned — usually a desk case file was completed, and then they would be sent on some sort of fake tracking mission — and Percival wanted to see how far Credence could go.

“Here’s your next case,” Percival said, sliding the files over. Credence took the first slowly, and Percival watched as he lost himself in the files, devouring the information rapidly.

He was a force to be reckoned with, Percival thought. Not only did he have great magical prowess (Percival didn’t need to see it to realise Credence was powerful; he’d been the oldest obscurial on record), he absorbed information like a sponge and thought deeply. He was meticulous, and Percival continued to watch him as he read through the files, lips moving as he read.

It had been a while since Percival had had the burning urge to see how far he could take someone. Now he had Credence, he didn’t want to let him return to Britain, wanted to keep him here to see how his department worked with him.

Credence looked up, stalling slightly when he realised Percival was already looking at him.

“The Jackalopes, sir,” he said, and Percival waved a hand dismissively.

“Percival will do just fine,” he said, and Credence nodded slowly. He’d insisted Credence call him Percival in their letters, and he wasn’t about to let him return to Mr. Graves.

“Then the Jackalopes, Percival,” Credence tried again, “do they have a place where they congregate? Most organisations tend to,” he said, and Percival leaned forwards.

“Not that we know of. They started down south and have been moving steadily up. Some reports place them in New York already, others say they’re still down south and have yet to venture up. For what it’s worth, we might as well have nothing on them.” Some of his frustration showed in his voice, and Credence nodded slowly, looking away.

“Who said they started down south?” he asked, and Percival frowned. “If you can’t trust these supposed reports of victims, then why do you trust where they started?”

Percival reached for the file Credence held out to him, flicking through for the first report they’d received. There was no note to suggest someone had looked up the person behind the report, and Percival rose.

“Follow me,” he ordered. A note in the chute wouldn’t cut it today, not when the records department weren’t expecting any cases to be filing requests, so Percival had to make a visit in person.  “We’re heading to the records department. If your theory is true, we might be cutting it close.”

Credence kept stride easily as Percival swept through department after department, heading up into the airy archives. It was a good ten minute or so journey, and not once did Credence fall behind, confidently keeping up with Percival. This was their case now, and Percival felt they had finally come to a breakthrough.

“Anything related to the word Jackalope or Marty Price?” The clerk at the records department confirmed, waving their wand in a complex pattern at Percival’s nod. “Alright then. If you take a seat, I’ll bring the information to you when the archive has been searched.”

They did as instructed, heading to the small waiting room and taking one of the private booths. For Percival, this was routine, but Credence was looking at everything with wide eyes, drinking it all in.

“I might be wrong,” Credence said suddenly, and Percival’s eyebrow shot up. “I mean, you’ve placed a lot of faith in me. I’m just a junior auror from England.”

He really believed it too, Percival could see, and he rested his hand on his lips trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say.

“You’re not though. Tina wanted me to meet you the moment she realised you were here, and I understand why. You solved a case that took an entire team weeks in just over an hour. You’re one of the strongest wizards I’ve ever met, morally and magically speaking, and you’ve spotted a potential lead for a case that has been hanging about bothering everyone for weeks.” Percival let his hand fall to the table. “You’re a junior auror from England, but that doesn’t mean that’s all you are.”

Credence shifted, an unhappy slant to his mouth proof he didn’t quite believe that. It made Percival wonder just what his life had been like in Paris and London, and whether anyone had ever told Credence they loved him.

“We have a complicated past — you can’t deny that — but I see a man with enormous talent and potential. I’ve thought about a dozen ways to poach you from the Ministry already, and I have a feeling I’ll spend more time thinking of other ways.” Percival smiled as Credence looked at him hesitantly. “I’d like to be your friend.”

Percival hadn’t really meant to say that last bit, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret saying it, not when Credence’s face lit up and an honest smile graced his lips. He seemed utterly charmed by the thought, resting his forearms on the table and nodding.

“I would like that, Percival,” he said. “I know I don’t have the most confidence in myself, but I promise I’ll keep on trying. I want to do good work for you, for Tina too, and…” Credence trailed off, averting his eyes. “I’m sorry for not writing to you again, after I left Paris.”

It wasn’t what Percival was expecting to hear, and he tilted his head, waiting.

“I needed a clean slate, I guess, and the Ministry had finally accepted my transfer and —”

“It’s okay, Credence,” Percival said softly, and he watched as Credence’s shoulders relaxed, dropping low. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I was surprised you even answered my first letter — I wasn’t expecting you to even read my account of what happened. Thank you,” he finished, a little awkwardly, and Credence shook his head, opening his mouth to say something else.

“It’s not much, but here’s what I could find,” the clerk said, stepping forward to set two sheets of paper on the desk. “If you need anything more, you know where to find me.”

They reached for one paper each, the excitement of furthering a case sweeping over the curiosity of what Credence had been about to say. Percival had his job to do now; he could dwell on other things later.

His sheet of paper contained all the information they had on record about the Jackalopes, and it wasn’t anything Percival had been expecting. A fuzzy image of a rabbit with horns was printed on the page, along with humorous accounts of these creatures popping up all down south. Percival bit the inside of his cheek, noting that, aside from the rabbit things, the only other use of the name Jackalope had very little information. A suspicious group, it said, and that was it.

“He lives in New York,” Credence said, triumph in his voice. “Your first guy, here’s the address.”

The superficial check they ran at the start of this investigation would have turned up that the Jackalopes were growing in popularity in the south. No one had looked further when reports of a terrified man made their way up, and why should they have. Percival, who had had his fair share of magical creatures through Tina shoving books proudly in his face, thought this creature was ridiculous. No one could have imagined people making up this ridiculous rabbit and calling it a Jackalope. Sometimes, and Percival knew this very clearly, even aurors overlooked things.

“Right,” Percival said, standing and nodding to the door. “We’re getting a team together, and we’re leaving right now.”

Percival sent his jaguar patronus slinking to find Proudfoot and give her an update. The surveillance team should be on high alert for whatever Percival was about to shake out of the shadows, and he wouldn’t stand for anyone hurting themselves due to their oversight.

“Come on then, Credence,” Percival said, and Credence tore himself away from watching the patronus, nodding. “Can you send a message to Tina? Let her know we’re heading out and will be uncontactable for a few hours.”

Credence nodded, drawing his wand from his holster and performing a textbook patronus. It formed into an elongated, stocky feline, one that loped off as soon as Credence gave it the message.

“Right,” Percival repeated, heading towards his division. He was already running through a list of names, who was overseeing the British aurors and who was free to come with them, and by the time they made it to the office, Percival was calling out names.

“Field, Chandler, Whiteford, and Fernwell, you’re to come with us now,” Percival ordered, nodding towards his office as he summoned the primary aurors on the case. They followed slowly, shrugging and introducing themselves to Credence as they entered the office.

“This is Auror Credence Barebone,” Percival began, waving his hand and closing the door. “And he is the reason we’ve just had a breakthrough on the Jackalope case.”

Credence flushed as all eyes in the room turned to him. He cleared his throat and began to explain what they’d found, voice growing more confident by the word.

“And we’re going to conduct a raid on Marty Price’s place. I have a feeling we’ll find a hornet’s nest there, so be prepared. Credence and I will go first, and you’re not to engage unless I give the signal.” The team nodded, eager to put this case to rest, and Percival straightened.

“We’ll rendezvous here,” Percival said, summoning his map of the city and pointing out a location. “Marty’s address is here,” he said, pointing to a nearby block of apartments. “Any questions?”

As seasoned aurors, all were familiar with how raids worked. Credence was the only one Percival expected to have questions, but he simply shook his head when Percival looked at him.

“I’ve been sent into enough raids,” he explained, smiling slightly. “I have, uh, an ability I use to my advantage if I need to get out.”

Percival raised an eyebrow, recognising the word ability as code for latent obscurus power. Interesting, he thought, but they didn’t have time to think about interesting things right now. They’d sat on this long enough, and while Percival hated walking in blind, they had to act now before the threat level grew.

“We’ll side-along,” Percival said as he moved around the rest of the team. “I shall see you all soon.”

.

As predicted, things had gone sour as soon as the door had opened and Percival had introduced himself. The man who had opened the door had blanched at the name Graves, pulled his wand out to fire a slicing hex, and Graves had pushed Credence to the side, slamming the front door shut wordlessly and sending his patronus off to the waiting team.

“They know to expect us now, be careful,” Percival warned, though he hardly needed to. Credence wasn’t green by any means, and he followed Percival into the building as they blasted through, the rest of the team materialising beside them.

“I have no idea on numbers,” Percival said, and one of the others cast a locating charm.

“At least 17,” Fernwell said. “They’re not happy. I would suggest use maximum force, Sir?”

Percival nodded, stepping closer to the lone staircase. It was a shabby looking apartment block, small for the area, with plenty of potential hiding places for the Jackalopes. It was a nightmare, really, and Percival ordered everyone to split into pairs and head to different floors.

Percival and Credence took the third floor, where Fernwell had suggested there were seven people, more than the other floors. If they had the element of surprise, they could end this quickly.

“We’ll clear each room on this floor,” Percival said, slipping his wand from its holster and performing a complex motion, a purple haze flowing through the room. It would check for any charms on the doors, and Percival nodded in encouragement as Credence sent his own spells through the corridor, an inky black cloud pressing against each of the doors in turn.

The first three rooms they spelled open held nothing in them, and Percival continued their journey, holding his free hand up when he heard voices. Credence reacted quickly, throwing a dark shield around them, and Percival had one moment to appreciate how skilled he’d become, and another to question the nature of the spells being targeted at them. He was sure he recognised the twang and color of the cat-wailing jinx, a harmless yet annoying spell children were fond of. Were they just being played with now?

“Well someone’s not happy about this house call,” Percival commented, ducking as thick ropes fired at the shield, dangling down like party streamers.

“I can’t think why,” Credence shot back, moving around Percival to send an entanglement of his own ropes around one of the wizard’s feet.

The person  fell, knocking the arm of another, and a blasting hex aimed for their shield catapulted up. Well, Percival thought it was a blasting hex. It was possible that it was also a similar yet far weaker spell, judging by the fact that the entire apartment remained standing, save for the ceiling directly above them. Percival grabbed Credence’s arm, hauling him against the wall as debris crashed against their shield.

“They’re idiots!” Percival shouted over the sound of the upper floors collapsing, and he hoped whoever was upstairs had enough sense to get out of the way. “They’re going to kill us with their idiocy!”

Percival could see it now, as he watched one of the criminals try and levitate debris out of the way and smack one of their accomplices in the arm with a chunk of wall. His obituary would read _killed by incompetent criminals_ , and his friends would laugh as he was lowered into the ground. Killed by a group calling themselves the Jackalopes.

“Credence, we’re going to take them down now,” Percival said, letting go of Credence’s arm and moving forwards, one hand carving a path through the mess and his wand arm maintaining the shield. Credence wasn’t far behind him, and Percival had the sudden urge to be better than he ever had before, if only to impress Credence. And even if it was against incompetent idiots.

He didn’t get a chance to impress however. From the side, one of the Jackalopes turned, wand aimed directly at Credence. Percival acted quickly, hand shooting out to catch Credence’s shoulder, and he pulled him close as he apparated them outside, far away from the man who had been trying to do Credence harm.

The street was quiet when they landed, and Credence paused before he stepped away. If Percival was a braver man, he’d say it was a _moment_ , but the moment was gone when Credence stepped away, lips pressed together and eyes darting around, looking for their next enemy.

Right. Focus on the idiots, Percival thought.

The door of the apartment opened wish a bang, someone blowing it off of its hinges. In synchronisation, Credence and Percival turned, Credence already shooting out a stunning curse. It took down one of the three men, and the other two turned to them, wands raised.

This time they offered more of a fight. Percival attempted to disarm them, but was met with resistance, a weak slicing hex cutting into the back of his hand. Rolling his eyes, Percival took three steps forward, wandlessly hurling the wreckage of the door at one of the men. He dodged it, the other took another stunner from Credence, and Percival raised an eyebrow.

“Nice,” he said as Credence stepped up beside him, his attention slipping from their man for one second. It appeared that second was all it took for the man to summon his courage and actually do something that would cause damage.

As if in slow motion, Percival saw the bright-white spark of the curse come his way, and he knew he’d be too slow to dodge it completely. As Percival urged his legs to move, his eyes widened as he saw Credence step into the line of fire, jaw set and determined, blood trailing down from a gash at his temple. He was fearsome, and it didn’t matter that these criminals were just idiots who had read too many overpowered spells and decided to try them out on Percival today. Credence wasn’t going to back down, and Percival watched in amazement, flicking ash off of his shoulder as some of the curse’s backfire burned through his coat. A quick reparo would deal with that later, Percival thought, rolling his shoulder at the uncomfortable feeling the curse had brought with it.

Credence took the remainder of the hex, his entire body shuddering as it struck his side. He didn’t falter, however, simply planted his feet in the ground and brought his wand arm up, calling at least five different immobilizing spells in one breath. They shot forward like snakes into the darkness surrounding them, and at least one found its mark, judging by the sudden sound of surprise.

Credence wasn’t done there, however, and he raised his arm high, wand curling through the air, releasing a wide shield charm, one that Percival recognised as a favorite of French aurors. It was designed with the general public in mind, but in this case served as a perfect spell to trap their criminals, including the ones inside.

Behind the charm, Percival could hear the sound of the rest of the team subjugating the criminals, spells lighting up the apartment windows, and he nodded to himself slightly, eyebrows still raised, impressed at Credence’s speed and skill. Sure they weren’t the hardest of criminals to catch, but Credence had single handedly protected him and provided the opening they needed.

“Well,” Percival said, feeling a little lightheaded. “We’ve missed our scheduled lunch. Tina had promised cucumber sandwiches too,” he said, as Credence looked at him, worry creasing his brow. The world swayed, and Percival frowned. That wasn’t right. The world shouldn’t be swaying. And he didn’t even like cucumber sandwiches, they were only on offer because apparently the British liked them.

“I think there was another spell,” he murmured, and that was the last thing Percival thought before he pitched face-forward onto the sidewalk.

.

“There isn’t an official name for it.” Healer Irene sighed, for what had to be the 50th time, checking Percival’s blood pressure and marking something down on a chart. “To be honest, I don’t think they even knew what they were doing. Thank god their spellwork was shoddy, or you’d be acting as if you’d taken some strong tranquilizers for the rest of your days. As far as I can tell, a combination of pain from a lightning hex, lack of appropriate nutrition, and a group of idiots not knowing how to properly cast a tranquilizing spell caused your momentary blackout.”

Percival crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. So what if he’d skipped breakfast that morning? Coffee was an appropriate substitute in his book.

“Fernwell stopped by,” he said, and Irene hummed. “She said they’d completed taking statements, didn’t even need to interrogate the idiots they came out with everything themselves, and no one knew what they’d done.”

“Well there you go then,” Irene said, flicking over the chart and nodding. “Now will you please get out of my hospital bed? I don’t know why they even bothered to give you a room, you recovered on your own after 20 minutes. It’s a waste of time. I think the girls are soft on your friend, the young auror, otherwise I need to have a word with my healers on appropriate patient management,” Irene continued, muttering more to herself than Percival.

Truth be told, he hadn’t needed a bed. One of the nurses had patched up his nose, broken in the pavement face-palm, in the waiting room as Credence had filled out paperwork, and there really had been no need for Percival to be given a room, let alone forced to wait in a bed. It had been under an hour since they’d captured the Jackalopes, and finally Percival was allowed to leave.

“I was told I could find you here,” a gleeful voice said as Percival exited the room, making sure his tie pins were straight and waving a hand in the direction of his hair, smoothing it back.

“Why am I so surprised you’re here,” Percival said, rolling his eyes as Proudfoot held out an envelope.

“I would have come the moment we decided to downgrade, but I had to send a memo to Limus and an owl to Seraphina to let them know you’d tripped over and knocked yourself out,” Proudfoot said, sniggering.

“I didn’t trip and-“ Percival sighed and rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the envelope instead. “Whatever we — Credence — did seems to have worked. The Jackalopes were the mysterious threat, and we can all go back to minding our own business.”

Shrugging, Proudfoot fell into step with him. It unsettled Percival slightly.

“It’s my lunch break,” she offered as they entered the waiting room. “I _was_ hoping I’d be able to have a chat with Credence, but Tina got there before me and hauled him back to your department. She didn’t look happy.”

“I sent a message to her,” Percival muttered, knowing full well how his afternoon was going to go now. “It’s not like I got Credence hurt. It was only a little scratch on the head.”

They entered the elevator, and Proudfoot keyed in the floor for the auror office, grinning at Percival when she was done.

“I have exactly 36 minutes of break left. I’m not missing out on watching whatever happens next,” she said, and Percival had a feeling she’d been gambling with Limus again. Without him, which seemed a little harsh, considering it was his love life and all.

The auror office was calm when they entered, and Percival held his head high as he headed to Tina’s desk. He could see the team he’d taken out around one of the communal tables, sorting through what had to be the last of the casework. None of them had been hit with wayward tranquilizing spells, lucky bastards.

“Sir,” Tina said, voice firm when Percival approached her desk. She was avoiding his gaze, which told Percival she was extremely annoyed with him. “I’d appreciate it if you would not talk to me for the rest of the day.”

Percival shot Proudfoot an alarmed look.

“Your patronus suggested you would be working on something that was finished and safe. Instead you end up in the hospital ward, Credence bled all over the nice coat Newt and I got him, a foreign auror is involved with the bust of the year, and I have so much paperwork that I could keep a fire burning for an entire year at least.” Tina finally looked up, eyebrows raised and mouth set in a thin line.

“Bust of the year?” Percival parroted, and Tina rolled her eyes.

“For the no-maj’s anyway. Apparently this gang were involved heavily with the mafia, but messed up more than a few times on their promises. They’d rigged the apartment to collapse if the mafia ever showed up and, well… they thought you were coming to collect on the debts.” Tina ran a hand through her hair and Percival shook his head slightly. Collapse was probably an overstatement too, unless there was a new definition that meant the ceiling of one floor.

“So let me get this straight,” Percival began in slight disbelief. “This group have been trying to fuck the no-maj mafia over, which is probably why we could never verify any of their attacks as they didn’t happen, thought I was some shark from the mafia sent to get them, and their reaction is to attack with magic?”

Proudfoot snorted.

“At least you can get them for pretty much breaking Rappaport’s law. And it’s nice to know the threat level was just because of their incompetence, not some hidden master plan.” Proudfoot offered Percival a shrug. “I think I have enough information I can report in. That tie does make you look like part of the no-maj mafia,” she added thoughtfully, waving a hand as she turned towards the elevator.

“She’s right,” Tina said, and Percival’s hand flew to his tie. It had been a gift. “Not your tie. Breaking of Rappaport’s law. That’s the main thing we’re charging them for. That and misuse of spells, as well as whatever went wrong with the tranquilizing spell and you.” Tina ran a hand through her hair, leaning her elbows on the table and sighing.

“Can you please just go to your office then take the afternoon off or something. I have too many things to deal with without thinking about you and Credence. Call it extended fieldwork or something — you’re the Director, so if you can’t sneak off with Credence for a few hours then what is the point,” Tina said, and Percival whipped round to see if he could see anyone in the shadows of his office. All was still, and Percival almost didn’t believe Tina had Credence sent in there.

“I’ll make up the hours at the weekend,” Percival agreed, shifting slightly towards the office. He wanted to check that Credence was unharmed, and he was off as soon as Tina turned back to her papers, sighing heavily.

The lamp was on, and Credence was hunched over Percival’s desk. He shot up as soon as Percival entered, excuses already escaping him, as if he expected punishment.

“Tina said it was okay for me to sit and wait here, and she gave me these old files and—”

“Are you alright?” Percival said, shutting the door behind him and walking around to the desk. “You were bleeding.”

He watched as Credence swallowed heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Percival tore his gaze away from Credence’s throat and sat in the visitor chair, waving for Credence to sit back in the comfortable chair.

“It was just a superficial cut.” He flushed slightly, red dotting his cheekbones. “I didn’t actually realise I’d been hurt until one of the healers pointed it out to me.”

“Too busy worrying about everyone else,” Percival said fondly, and Credence nodded, silent.

“You’re okay though?” Credence said after a moment, and Percival nodded, threading his fingers together on his lap.

“A little embarrassed at my team’s oversight, but fortunately this mistake didn’t result in a disaster. In fact, as far as field work goes, that was pretty straightforward,” Percival mused, and Credence smiled, tilting his head to the side. His hair, fully down, swept across his cheek, and he brushed it back slowly, eyes for Percival only.

“It’s like that at the Ministry. I’d imagine it’s like that in Paris too, but I only trained there and transferred to the UK as soon as I had passed.” There was silence for a moment, and then Credence continued. “I couldn’t take you with me to England,” he said, and Percival looked down at Credence’s hands, clenched into fists on the desk between them.

“I thought I should move past it all, that being an auror in England would be a fresh start.” Credence slipped one hand off of the desk. “I was convinced it would be so easy. All I had to do was ask you not to write, and that would be all. I’d be able to leave you behind just like the tiny apartment I’d occupied.”

Percival remained transfixed by Credence’s hand on the desk. It looked so pale in comparison to the dark of the wood, veins blue beneath ghostly skin. If anyone looked at Credence’s hands, they’d think him someone delicate, and he is anything but that. His hands have been burdened with the worst of his past. They were a testament to his strength and perseverance.

“It’s not such an easy thing,” Percival agreed in a low voice. He watched Credence’s wrist twitch, as if he wasn’t sure whether to retract his hand or not. “No one can ever honestly be left behind, no matter how much we want them to be.”

“I left Grindelwald behind,” Credence said firmly, and Percival looked up sharply, surprised. That was something he hadn’t been expecting, not when part of himself was still firmly caught in the past’s grip.

“I don’t think that’s something I’m capable of doing,” Percival admitted, bringing a hand up to his lips and pressing his knuckles against his teeth.

“I left him behind,” Credence said softly, his hand flat against the desk now. “I thought I could leave you behind too, find someone else, and…”

The smile Credence gave was something delicate and sad. Percival felt horror roll through him knowing he was the cause of the pain in that smile, and he leaned forwards, reaching for Credence and catching himself at the last moment.

“I don’t think there could ever be anyone else,” Credence admitted softly, and nerves blossomed in Percival’s chest, his heart hammering as if he was a teenager confessing to his first love all over again.

“Credence,” Percival murmured, and Credence seemed to shake himself, ducking his head and snatching his hand back to his lap.

“I don’t expect anything,” he rushed out, shaking his head. “I wanted to explain myself, that’s all.”

His honesty was more than appreciated, yet Percival had no idea how to put his own feelings into words. It wasn’t something he’d ever been good at in any case, but he’d never wanted to expound upon his feelings before like he did now.

“I didn’t know anything when I left for Paris. Everything was so strange and new and… when I first wrote to you, I wanted something to cling to. Instead you were patient, kind, explained what had happened, and made me understand things.” Credence shook his head, closing his eyes. “I fell in love with you from your letters.”

He opened his eyes, mist swirling in his irises.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’ll return to the Ministry tomorrow, they know it’s a hard training program and they’re never surprised to see some people return. It won’t reflect badly on me at all and—”

“I want you to stay,” Percival said, fear rising in him. He pushed it back, needing to speak. “I want to take you on a date. I want to show you off at the office parties. I want to ask for your advice when I need help. I want to wake up every morning knowing there’s someone good, someone amazing, that I love. I want to write to you again.”

Credence’s mouth closed and he looked down, ducking his head as his cheeks reddened.

“If you want to go back to England, I’ll still want to do all those things. Maybe then the letters will make sense,” Percival said, hoping Credence understood. It didn’t matter whether an entire ocean separated them or an office door. He wanted Credence no matter what.

“I don’t want to go back to the Ministry,” Credence said in a rush, looking up. “I already… I…”

It wasn’t working, Percival thought, and he briefly considered simply launching himself over the desk. Realising that it was a terrible idea a moment later, he stood and walked around the desk, coming to his knees at Credence’s feet, taking his hand and pulling him close, close enough to see white mist dance across Credence’s eyes, like smoke rising.

“I had Tina look at the transfer paperwork for me. I was going to ask to move here before I was offered the program, and then it just seemed silly to go back when everything I want is here.” Credence reached a hand up to smooth against Percival’s jaw, eyes searching his. “I want to stay here, with you. This is where I belong.”

He kissed Percival slowly, uncertainty clear. It was sweet, a gentle press of lips, and Credence pulled back quickly, pressing his lips together. His hand was still against Percival’s face, thumb stroking his cheek uncertainty, and Percival tilted his head, leaning into his touch.

“I’d like to take things slowly,” Percival said, and he watched as Credence’s eyes widened, as if, even after all this, he was still waiting to be rejected. “But this is where I belong too. With you.”

Credence’s laugh was loud, and he leant forwards, shoulders shaking, until his head was pressed against Percival’s forehead. His eyes were dancing with humor, and Percival smiled back, amazed at how much life and love he felt for Credence.

Leaning forwards ever so slightly, Percival kissed Credence. He inhaled as one of Credence’s arms would its way around his neck, pulling him further forwards, until he was blocking Credence in the chair, almost fully on his lap. He pulled back and smiled, Credence frowning and bringing him back down.

“I thought of this often,” he confessed against Percival’s lips, voice low. His arm slipped down, threading Percival’s fingers with his own against his thigh.

About to kiss him again, or whisper all the ways Credence made him feel, Percival paused as the door creaked open, and someone caught them.

“Seriously?” Tina’s voice said from the door, and Percival looked around slowly, raising an eyebrow in her direction. “Please. You said you’d go home. Go home now and save me an even bigger headache. You can just have these files tomorrow.”

She turned, still muttering to herself, and Percival turned back to Credence. He was smiling, and he shrugged at Percival’s questioning look.

“I haven’t found anywhere to rent yet. Looks like we’re going back to your place,” he said, and Percival felt a shiver of anticipation flow through him. Credence stood and pressed a kiss to Percival’s hand as he pulled away. He gathered his tan coat — free of blood thankfully — and his hat, beaming as Percival rose to his feet.

“We’re still going to take it slow,” Percival promised quietly, and Credence nodded, his smile blossoming through Percival. He hadn’t felt this happy in years, and wondered how long it would be until he could tell Credence that he was the one.

“I’d like that,” Credence said, slipping through the door Percival held open, making a brief stop at Tina’s desk as Percival closed his door.

Percival smiled to himself, making his way to the elevators, Credence joining him after a moment, waving goodbye to Tina. He bumped against Percival’s arm, smiling nervously as he took Percival’s hand, squeezing softly.

“Thank you,” Percival said as the elevator doors opened, and they stepped in together, Credence’s brow furrowed in confusion, as if he had no idea why Percival was thanking him.

“You’re welcome,” he settled on, leaning into Percival as the elevator lurched downwards.

All things considered, Percival thought over lunch, at a small table in a quiet restaurant, knees knocking together, it hadn’t been that bad of a day at all.

“And then there was the case of the selkie-hunter,” Credence continued, catching Percival up on everything he’d done for the Ministry. Percival smiled as he launched into a tale of him and Newt Scamander tracking through various bogs only to find the selkie the hunter had been after preferred the Cornish coast anyway, and wondered how he’d gotten so lucky.

.

“Six dragots on someone vomiting on Tina’s shoes,” Credence said, bumping Percival’s shoulder as he turned to hear Proudfoot’s bet, shaking his head and leaning back against Percival when she delivered it.

“And I want 20 on someone pulling a Barebone, falling for me and deciding his life is meaningless without me,” she said with a dramatic sigh. Credence ducked his head, and Percival peered around his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Proudfoot.

“Stop calling it that,” he demanded, and she poked her tongue out of her mouth at him. “Credence’s transfer here and our relationship are two very distinct things, and while—”

“We don’t need the lecture again, Percy,” Limus piped up, lighting his cigarette.

“And my life wasn’t meaningless,” Credence offered up, slipping one hand off of the banister to catch Percival’s. “This is my home and always has been.”

Proudfoot grimaced. “Seriously guys, stop crushing my romantic plans. Can’t a girl dream for a fairy tale prince from a distant land?”

“Talk to Seraphina,” Percival offered, squeezing Credence’s hand. “She knows a lot of people from distant lands. Probably some princes too.”

Humming to herself, Proudfoot turned her attention back down to the arriving aurors, binoculars raised. She was no doubt scanning each and every one of the new British aurors for anyone she found appropriately attractive.

“I recognize a few of them from the office,” Credence said, handing Percival back his binoculars and nodding slowly. “At least two of them will drop out, guaranteed.”

“Insider knowledge,” Limus sniffed, vanishing away his cigarette ash with an elaborate flick of the wrist. “You two are as bad as each other.”

Another group arrived below, and Percival saw Tina dart forward as one of them fell to the floor, the portkey clearly too much. He winced as the recruit tried to get themselves back up, failing miserably. For a moment, Percival wondered if this was the person who would win Credence six dragots, and he brought both hands up to the binoculars, leaning forward to try and get a better look.

“They didn’t vomit,” Proudfoot announced gleefully. “You might have your insider information, but I have luck on my side!”

Credence snorted and rested his head against Percival’s shoulder. He was warm and reassuring, and Percival let his own head dip until he was against Credence.

“As adorable as you two are,” Limus said, vanishing the remainder of his cigarette, “not all of us have control of the rota and can book a half day. I’m heading back to work — I’ll see you later?”

Percival turned, separating himself from Credence, and nodded.

“Come around at about eight. We’re keeping it a quiet affair,” Percival insisted, and ignored the look Limus shot Proudfoot. He could pretend their housewarming would be a quiet affair, at least until the guests showed up.

“That’s what Percy wants you to think,” Credence piped up, and Percival regretted ever introducing him to his friends. Even if it hadn’t been him to actually introduce them. “He’s just annoyed because he’s been sleeping alone since I took up a few extra night shifts trying to solve my latest case.”

There was a cough from Proudfoot, and Credence let his words hang their innocently for a moment. Percival rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the aurors filing off to orientation. For some reason, everyone was still convinced Credence was innocent and didn’t understand anything to do with sex. The truth was that Credence had suggested things even Percival hadn’t known about, and had taken to asking Seraphina awkward questions. He’d admitted it was a petty way to get back at her, testing even her shamelessness, but it had been startling at first to hear certain things come from Credence’s mouth as if he was talking about the weather.

“I’d believe that if Tina hadn’t been muttering about how she should enact an open-door policy whenever you call Credence into your office for a meeting,” Limus said, and Proudfoot snorted.

“Dirty,” she commented, and Credence crossed his arms over his chest.

“Who says the office is the only place. We’re not the ones who were late to show up today,” Credence said, shrugging, and Percival tucked his binoculars away, taking pity on their friends. He did enjoy the horrified expressions, however.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything up here,” Percival said, slinging an arm around Credence and kissing his temple. The horrified looks dropped, and Percival’s smile widened. “Today at least. Come on then Credence, let’s check the movers have everything dropped off.”

Both Limus and Proudfoot groaned as they left, and Percival knew he’d pay for his comment that evening, probably with something alcohol related. Still, it was worth it, and Credence laughed as they left.

They apparated home, a spacious penthouse apartment in the heart of the city. It was nothing like the small, one-bedroom place Credence had been renting for the past year, and Percival had preferred a home that made Credence’s eyes widen. It was modern, wide windows and skylights, and Credence had fallen in love the first time they’d viewed it. Percival, who had moved house fairly often and wasn’t bothered where he called home so long as it was with Credence, had decided to fall in love with it too, and now here they were, fully unpacked and together.

“Tina said she might be a bit late,” Credence said as he moved to the open kitchen, raiding the cupboards. Percival took a seat at the counter, floating his coat towards the stand. Credence hadn’t taken his off yet, so Percival slipped it off with magic, collecting his hat too and letting it follow his own coat’s progress to the stand by the door.

“I had a feeling she would be,” Percival said, stifling a yawn as he felt the coats settle on the stand. Credence joined him opposite the counter, peeling an orange.

“She didn’t complain once to me about organizing it this year,” Percival said, opening his mouth as Credence offered him a segment. He savoured the burst of juice as he bit down, licking his lips as Credence continued peeling, chewing one of his own segments. “She’s growing up,” Percival said softly as Credence met his gaze, popping another segment in his mouth and drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. A little juice escaped his mouth, and Credence gave a huff of laughter, hand cupping his mouth as the orange threatened to shoot out, and Percival smiled fondly.

“Are you trying to be seductive?” he asked, and Credence grinned, swallowing thickly.

“Well you are getting on a bit now, I have to keep you interested somehow,” Credence said, moving around the counter until he was standing before Percival.

“Are you calling me old?” Percival said in a low voice, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. “Because I really am, and you’re the one I need to keep interested.”

Credence sighed, shrugging dramatically.

“I suppose we’ll just have to keep on putting up with each other then, that seems to be the only solution,” he said around a smile, and Percival pulled him close, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I love you,” Percival said, enjoying the slight flush on Credence’s cheeks. It was a habit he’d never moved past, and Percival adored it. “And I hope none of our friends ruin our house tonight,” he said, moving up and over to the sink, grabbing glasses on his way and filling them with water.

“If they do, they’re your friends, not mine. I’ve always wanted to play the role of annoyed spouse,” Credence mused, leaning on the counter. “How dare you let those vagabonds in here!” he said with a laugh, and Percival hummed to himself, slumping his shoulders.

“But darling,” he pleaded, and Credence pressed his lips together, crossing his arms and trying not to laugh. “What’s mine is yours,” Percival finished, and Credence sighed dramatically.

“If it comes to it, I want to be the one to kick them out,” he said, and Percival nodded, letting Credence pull him close. “I’ve been working on a spell that mimics the obscurus shift, without me actually changing shape.”

Percival tucked some of Credence’s hair behind one ear, eyes roaming his face. He smiled shyly, and Percival kissed him gently.

“You managed to fix the smell?” he asked, and Credence narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Almost, but it’s more like burned toast than eggs now. So… some progress at least.” He gave a lopsided smile and began shuffling backwards to the living room and the couch.

They sat down, Credence shuffling until they were next to each other, and he summoned a small book. It landed heavily in his hand, and he flicked through it, passing it over to Percival.

“I was hoping you could try it out for me,” Credence said, and Percival took the book slowly, scanning the theory behind the spell, and the casting work itself. It was an intricate spell, but a valuable one that would benefit the auror field teams, including Percival. Credence couldn’t be there all the time, he’d said so himself, and had been insistent on designing and pushing for more spells that would, he’d said in the secret of Percival’s old bedroom, keep Percival as safe as he could.

“Anything,” Percival promised, and he stood, turning and sliding his wand from its holster. He paused, caught by the intensity in Credence’s eyes, and he felt his throat dry a little.

“But perhaps, first…” Percival trailed off as Credence shifted, bringing their lips together slowly.

He moved them until Percival was on his back, glad their sofa was larger than the average. There was a glint in Credence’s eyes, and Percival bit the inside of his cheek as he Credence rubbed his knee over his cock, Credence bearing down to press soft kisses against his jaw. It doesn’t take long for him to grow hard, and Percival inhales sharply as Credence whispers a spell against the column of his throat, their clothes sliding away softly.

Credence is gentle, fingers shaking as he moved them to Percival’s chest. He often held himself back at first, and Percival had learned patience well when with Credence. He waited now, as Credence’s hands moved down, fingertips pressing against skin, over each rib in turn and down. Percival jerked as Credence mapped every ticklish spot, and Credence smiled in fascination, kissing the corner of his smile.

“You’re amazing,” Credence said, his hand continuing down, to the space where their hips met. Credence was hard already, Percival halfway there, and he inhaled as Credence pressed their hips flush together, closing his eyes and arching his back.

Percival’s breath caugh tin the back of his throat, and he brought a hand up to run through Credence’s hair. He pushed his hair back, Credence tilting his head and shifting his hips as he did so, breathing a heavy sigh.

Percival’s free hand came up to smooth against the skin of Credence’s thigh, fingers digging into muscle as Credence shifted again. He pressed open-mouthed kisses against Percival’s shoulder as he guided the hand on his thigh between them, and Percival knew what was being asked of him. Credence had yet to master these set of spells without his wand.

In the blink of an eye, Credence rocked back, Percival’s hand pressed against his ass. The spells do their magic, and Credence is littering Percival’s throat with kisses, slick with lubricant and humming as his cock brushes Percival’s belly. He wriggled as Percival slipped his finger between his cheeks, pressing into him gently, curling his fingers.

“I’ve missed this,” Credence gasped as he tilted his hips, eyes focusing on Percival’s as he bit his lip. His cheeks were flushed, and one of his hands came down hard on the arm of the sofa, above Percival’s head, as he fought back a moan. Percival’s entire body shuddered with the noise, and he surged up, catching Credence in a kiss as he lined them up.

“I’ve missed you,” Credence amended, arms resting now on Percival’s shoulders as he pulled back, blinking slowly.

“You didn’t go far,” Percival said, and he smiled as Credence looked at him doubtfully. “Work is important, you’re a great auror. Putting extra hours in at the office won’t make me love you any less,” he continued, and Credence allowed himself a soft smile, taking Percival’s head in his hands and kissing his forehead.

“Sometimes I worry too much,” he admitted, and Percival brought a hand up to stroke the space between his shoulderblades, wishing he could pull every negative thought and feeling from Credence.

He couldn’t do that. What he could do, however, was give Credence other things to think about. He pulled him close, kissing him deeply. His lips were soft, and Percival felt Credence move back, tongue slipping into his mouth as he raised himself up. Credence pulled back just for one moment, then he was sinking down onto Percival’s cock, sighing against Percival’s lips.

They paused for a moment, Credence’s muscles tense. Percival held him tightly, and then Credence shifted back, one hand supporting himself on Percival’s shoulder as he rocked his hips. He hummed as Percival began to move too, though he lets Credence keep control.

Shifting his hips, Credence pushed down harder, bowing over to catch Percival’s bottom lip in his teeth. He pulled slightly, and drew a moan from the back of his throat, eyes shutting tightly as he moves in Percival’s lap. His eyes snapped open a moment later as Credence pulled back, and the image was beautiful. He looked free, caught up in the moment entirely, and Percival’s entire body ignites. He was the one who did this to Credence. He was the only one who could make him feel that way.

Percival barely recognised the onset of his orgasm when it approached, too fascinated in watching Credence. His eyes opened, something wild and beyond comprehension dancing in them, and Percival felt his release looming. His hands came to steady Credence’s hips as he moved up, and Credence was at his lips once more, delicate kisses peppering their way across his mouth.

He felt Credence come moments after he had, entire spine stiffening as he gasped into Percival’s kiss. He smiled seconds later, letting out a heavy sigh, and then he was looking down, as if he was going to say something. He didn’t need to though, Percival knew, and he brushed a stray hair behind Credence’s ear, wondering how it was possible to love someone more and more with each passing day.

Credence moved until he was nestled between the back of the sofa and Percival, holding tightly with his head almost crushed against Percival’s neck. His breathing slowed, and Percival knew he was drifting off to sleep, the workload he’d been pushing himself to finally taking its toll. Percival closed his eyes and stroked the skin of Credence’s upper arm, kissing the crown of his head.

He wouldn’t sleep, but he’d enjoy the peace all the same. It would be some time before their guests were here, and they could afford an hour or so nap. It took barely a thought to summon a blanket, and Credence shifted until he was able to breathe properly, cheek against Percival now.

“Get some rest,” Percival murmured, turning their lights off and allowing the life of the city and sky to illuminate the room. It wasn’t much light, but it was still impressive, and Percival wondered how many other people out there had ended up as lucky as he had.


End file.
